


You and I Should Meet

by vibecentral



Series: Buried Alive [2]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Everyone Has Issues, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Shinguji Korekiyo, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Party Games, Post-Canon, Rantaro has anxiety, Summer Vacation, discussions of trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vibecentral/pseuds/vibecentral
Summary: Rantaro reunites the old class for a boardgame party slash sleepover slash summer vacation, what could go wrong?
Relationships: Amami Rantaro & Oma Kokichi, Amami Rantaro/Oma Kokichi, lots of implied background relationships
Series: Buried Alive [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599256
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	1. A Plane to the Countryside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fic title from 1979 by the smashing pumpkins, chapter title from dont get lost in heaven by gorillaz  
> a direct sequel to the 1st part, i dont have much to say bout this chapter i just hope yall like it & rantaro :)

The sun was starting to tint the morning sky when Rantaro got to the vacation home. The clouds drifted by slowly but he didn’t as much as glance at them; he needed to get the place in shape before his guests arrived. Still, he took his first steps on the wooden floors to reminisce. He'd spent his childhood summers here, it was family property passed down from generations, and it held some of his fondest memories. His dad relied less on the maid there, choosing to instead play with his kids himself, and he’d even try his hand at cooking once or twice a year, usually burning something down in the process. It was also a great place for him to run around in and explore. From his child’s point of view, the house was simply gigantic and he’d spend entire afternoons getting lost in the endless corridors or the untamed backyard. It had also been in a near-constant state of renovation to accommodate his ever-growing number of step-siblings and though it had helped keeping things fresh, that had its drawbacks as well. Entire wings would take turns being closed off to let the workers do their job in peace, until the year they were all done and his sister disappeared and he stopped coming. He'd never seen the house properly finished, and he was discovering it several years too late, but he tried not to think about it too much.  
There wasn't as much housekeeping needed as he'd thought. The bulk of the work was due to the size of the place alone so after his careful pass of each room he had plenty of time for a nice bath. He stepped in the water and there was a wrongness to it. With no one else around he felt like he was trespassing, or like he was the kid in Home Alone, left behind and forgotten. He was hyper aware of every noise he made with every shift of his body and of the heavy silence that fell whenever he stayed still. There was nothing but him and the distant bugs. He walked along the floorboards and there was no excitement that went with it, it was just a simple chore he had to go through to refresh his memory of the layout. Each new door opened to more quiet and a confirmation of what he already knew but it never failed to underwhelm. He expected more, somehow. His nerves wouldn’t settle for the emptiness and there was a worry at the back of his head (and some of it was hope instead) that he'd be caught soon and forced to leave. It'd be like he was 8 again, and after crawling around anywhere he could find simply for the sake of exploring he'd be called back by the maid for dinner and reunite with his family- all of it. His dad had given him the keys, though. The empty house was where he belonged and where he had to wait.

He'd just finished putting groceries away when Kirumi pulled over. She drove a fancy car, black all over windows included, and her heels clicked against the stone. She still had the same effortless grace, but with a newfound intensity that made his anxiety spike. For a second he forgot she wasn't a cop and that he'd invited her himself. He only stared as she approached in case he needed to run away but then she took off her sunglasses, carefully tucked them aside, and her smile made all that stress vanish. They greeted each other warmly. She offered her help preparing everything and Rantaro had just enough time to decline before a rusty bike screeched to a halt next to them. Gonta hopped off and profusely apologized, both for his sudden entrance and the mud that covered him. He released his hair from his helmet and after a quick welcome, Rantaro showed him to the bathroom. They settled around tea and the conversation was weirdly effortless. Rantaro was grateful they'd both decided to arrive early so he didn't have to wait in silence anymore, slowly watching the clouds pass.

Rantaro thought that despite the years, Kirumi hadn't changed much, she'd just gained in maturity. Gonta hadn't either; his suits were now tailored and he kept his hair in one huge braid when he needed it out of the way, but everything else was very much the same. They looked just like they did back then, with the same care behind their eyes, and so it was easy to forget how much time had really passed. The next people didn't give him that luxury. Tenko stood by her car and she had more muscle than she could've built in the short time Rantaro liked to pretend it had been. Next to her, Angie excitedly waved, and she showed off in as much detail as she could the various piercings she’d gotten (some she'd given herself, she explained). More striking, though, was Himiko, who last stepped out of the car with all the confidence she could now boldly display on her face free of hair. Her faux-hawk was the lesser change of the three, but it was the most unexpected, and as the memories of the girl hiding behind her bangs resurfaced, Rantaro finally understood what three years meant.

He greeted everyone the same after that, and the ways in which they'd all grown would almost jump at his throat and suffocate him. He appreciated how much progress his friends had made, how much happier they all felt despite their time at the Academy, but Rantaro wondered if they all saw something similar with him. He hoped they did. The thought gave him comfort, and it made him feel closer to everyone and like someone he could be proud of. It'd mean that he did know them and they knew him, and just as important, that he wasn't as stuck in the past as his dad said, that he was capable of moving on. They gathered by the parked cars and he could hear between the small-talk the amazing stories they all had, but he didn't have any to share. Despite the Ultimate Adventurer title, he hadn't traveled much since they'd all been freed, and what he had visited had just been that, a visit. He smiled along though. It was nice to hear they'd been up to exciting things. Miu got another one of her inventions in stores and she'd kept her name attached to it this time. She boasted to Korekiyo how she had something to show for her work, unlike boring academics like him.  
Kaito and Maki arrived late. His hair was as messy as usual, though it was clear it wasn't on purpose this time. He laughed though. It boomed as he stepped up to the group and Maki rolled her eyes. She stared at him until he offered an apology, and he sheepishly followed it with the explanation. His grandparents wouldn't let him leave, or maybe he didn't want to leave them, but whoever wouldn't let go was reminded they'd only be apart for a week and eventually, they caved. Maki shook everyone's hand and what clarification she had to offer was cut short by Ryoma's arrival. He casually greeted everyone. He sported a familiar smile and he let the easy conversation pick up again before mentioning how difficult he'd found it to distract the guards enough for him to sneak out. At that, the group quieted down. The hard reminder that not everyone's hardships had stopped with the game left them awkward, and Rantaro realized he hadn't even considered the possibility he'd still been in jail. Ryoma then spoke again, and he apologized for the joke and how it sounded better in his head, and when the others still didn't know how to react he went on to explain he just had to find someone to look after his cat since his friend had to cancel at the last minute, and finally the mood picked up again. He showed everyone, but especially Angie and Shuichi, pictures of the cat in question and Gonta talked about the critters he'd left behind himself.  
They stayed gathered there for a bit longer, until Tsumugi cut Kiibo mid-sentence to bluntly ask who they were still waiting for. It made all their heads turn and look at each other, and they almost counted out loud to make sure there was even someone missing. But the group had stopped at 15 and Rantaro didn't need the question to remind him of it. Ever since the first guest, and then when the second wave had opened with Kaede and, still, when the late arrivals came, he'd kept track of one person missing. When the rest of the group figured out who it was, he turned to Maki to know what time she'd arrived at and in return she asked if he was really expecting Kokichi to come at all. Kirumi informed him of the time she'd tried to reach him only to find out he'd given her a fake number, even Kaito joined in to comment on how he didn't think he’d show up either, especially considering how clear it was that the jokester hadn't enjoyed the time he'd spent with all of them back then. Rantaro didn't have anything to answer because they weren't wrong. Deep down, he knew he had no reasons to believe otherwise. Still, he couldn't shake the worry away. He knew for a fact he had the right number (or the prank call he'd received was that elaborate) and Kokichi had seemed genuinely into the idea of the little class reunion. He'd proposed it himself and it couldn't have been a joke either because he'd agreed to stay with Rantaro for so long that night. But again, it was always hard to tell with Kokichi. Rantaro liked thinking he understood him even a little but he could've just as easily stuck with him because he couldn't afford to miss a good prank opportunity. He wanted to believe things had changed for the better but maybe he'd only pushed the liar into isolation, and as his heart raced and he had to suppress coughs from a familiar anxiety, he thought that maybe he shouldn't have showed up either.

Rantaro faked a phone call to break from the group. He shut his eyes and tried to force himself to think about anything else. The only reason he had to expect Kokichi to come involved that night at the Academy but something in his gut kept him from mentioning it to the others. He didn't know what he feared, if it was them reacting badly to a chance encounter or reading too much into it or just having any thoughts about it at all. He was most scared that Kokichi had somehow been honest in all of this but something was keeping him from coming, and also that something didn't and he'd be proven right. He'd show up, Rantaro would have to face all 15 of his old classmates, with no room for another shot if it went wrong. If this turned out to be a disaster he'd be left with no one to turn to and no country to flee to make it alright again. He had to make sure he didn't slip up, then, and he had to move on, so he rejoined the group and suggested they stopped aimlessly waiting and moved inside. He started guiding them through the corridors, blind to the various family mementos on the walls. The only history he got into was that of the rooms like the old study that had been added by an ancestor who couldn't part with her books even out in the country. The semicircular window and its cushions gave a perfect place to read and she must've inspired the Amamis' sense of adventure as her successors added more libraries, or it was her love of sitting inside a cozy room she'd transmitted and that eventually led to a den turned home theater. Its plush sofas could accommodate an absurd amount of people, regardless of how many they'd been meant for originally and the heavy curtains only made the whole room more impressive by obscuring where exactly it ended.  
Rantaro forced the distracted group towards the more mundane rooms, himself unmoved by the lavish decor all around. The kitchen stood near the building's core, pushed there by the various alterations. It was a notable downgrade from the paintings adorning the walls and the busts standing in corners but only because practicality had been prioritized in it. It gave ample space to move around and enough counters for three different full meals to be prepared at once and to then move easily to the dining room. Its large cabinets created a more sheltered atmosphere, it was a room thought for conversation to flow easily in and to keep it unbothered by noise of the nearby cooking. It worked both-ways as well, as it was hard to tell what was going on from outside even with the door open. It was a bit crowded with all 16 of them in there, though, and they appreciated the open space of the living room that much more for it. It was a bit closer to the ground, effectively turning the whole room into a conversation pit, and the couple steps needed circled all throughout with their center on the fireplace. It wasn't currently lit (and it had rarely ever been, as the house was only really occupied in the summer) but its presence alone added something comforting. Portraits dressed up the walls. There weren't enough people to showcase the full family tree and the resemblance with Rantaro was only minimal but the name was still repeated on every golden plate. They had to fight the urge to simply sit down there as the host wanted to first make sure everyone knew where they'd be sleeping. They passed several doors that stayed closed, all with some sort of symbol carved in its wood. The rest of the group tried not to be bothered by them, reassured by Rantaro's complete lack of care for it, but it killed what light conversation they had until they reached the end of the corridor.  
Bookshelves stood on one wall and doors on the others. A nice carpet was laid underneath a coffee table and a couple couches, though it was clear from the minimalist decor that this hall wasn't part of the original plan or any that followed. Rantaro remembered a time that the only window shone into a bedroom instead of a lobby, when it was just him, his first step-sister, and the twins. They'd only needed 4 rooms then, and this one had been his dad's. Things had changed little by little at first; more beds were added, and then partitions were built, until they had to face the reality that you couldn't give each kid a closet to sleep in and they had to redo the whole wing. They settled on a common main area with doors leading to the bedrooms and a shared bathroom. They’d been stripped of some of their splendor but certainly bigger than the alternative would've made them, and the arrangement satisfied everyone. Rantaro thought that the following generations might very well tear everything down again, but until then, the unused rooms would keep collecting dust.  
It hit him that, in all the size of his family, this group of friends was slightly bigger. He apologized for the oversight, and informed them they'd be more people per room than planned and he'd take whatever bed was left. There was still enough space so it wouldn't be too crowded, and Rantaro was assured that they'd assumed they'd have to share rooms already and it was more convivial that way. Then Angie piped up. She asked why there were even that many guest rooms in a vacation home and Rantaro's reveal of his 12 sisters came to a surprise to almost everyone. Kaede and Tsumugi already knew thanks to the game, but the latter still commented on what a chaotic upbringing that must've been. He laughed with a stilted smile, though it wasn't too noticeable in the large group, and promptly guided them to the backyard to finish the tour.

The massive door slid to reveal a sunroom. The pristine glass walls looked out on the rest of the property, some of it wild land, some of it cared for. Rantaro realized he'd forgotten about the garden, but everything up to the pond was well taken care of and he had to come to the conclusion his dad had been keeping the place in good shape all this time. Well after all his kids had left the place and he could only assume they wouldn’t return, he still cared for the vacation house. Rantaro decided he'd think about the implications of such a dedication later, and until then, he'd put it on the man simply wishing to honor their ancestors. Gonta was already kneeling in front of the flower beds to look at whatever bug flittered around, and Himiko was all but rolling around in the soft grass. Most of the others had followed outside the porch to take in the sun directly on their skin rather than through the windows and Rantaro had to admit he liked that idea better. He asked those who hadn't stepped out already to help drag the tables and sofas on the grass, and when he came back with tea, everyone had more or less sat down and picked the conversation right back up.  
Rantaro spent some time with a cup between his fingers simply watching. He listened as Kaito complimented Tenko on her lifting technique, and he smiled at Kaede's giggling from her gossiping with Miu. Shuichi was enthralled in Korekiyo's retelling of the last book he'd read while Kiibo showed off his new features, though it was clear he also wanted to talk about the skills he'd picked up more traditionally. In their own corner, Kirumi and Angie conspired in whispers that he didn't dare interrupt so instead, he watched Himiko and Tsumugi enthusiastically talking about a magical girl anime that had just finished airing. They gestured widely as they talked, pointing out both flaws and bits they liked, and when Tsumugi moved to sit next to her friend, Rantaro noticed she was leaving her couch empty. He turned his head to see where Ryoma and Gonta had gone to and quickly noticed them walking around the pond. They were both smiling as they talked, and their lazy pace allowed them to point out flowers and bugs on the way. Rantaro couldn't help but remember how he used to do this too, years ago. He'd explore this very backyard with his sisters every summer and he'd always have neat facts prepared to entertain them with. He once saw butterflies land on the twins at the same time, as well as a wasp nest he quickly ushered them away from. He missed them. He wanted them to have a little reunion like this one, some day.  
Maki interrupted her conversation to fill in Kaito's vocabulary and his desperate thank pulled Rantaro back in. She went back to discussing various work-out routines with Tenko, at least until Kaito let Russian slip in his speech again and without missing a beat, she jabbed at him with a Russian phrase of her own. Korekiyo choked on his tea and that was enough confirmation for Rantaro to know that what little he'd gotten of it wasn't misunderstood and he could only assume that what he didn't recognize was better left untranslated. Kaito boomed a laugh though, and once the initial surprise washed off, Korekiyo followed with giggles muffled behind his glove. Tsumugi paid no mind to the scene, instead sitting herself down with enough force to startle Kiibo. She asked him about what he'd hinted at earlier, and he quickly recomposed himself at the opportunity to infodump. He went on about the skills and interests he'd cycled through since last time they'd seen each other, spending a bit more time on his knitting phase since Tsumugi had her own stories to share on that. Kaede saw Himiko had been left alone and she took the vacant seat. Rantaro couldn't make out their conversation as well; they were both less over-the-top in their ways of expressing themselves than the cosplayer- or even the small group gathered to tease the astronaut. Though he was beginning to catch compliments on Himiko's hair, his attention was quickly grabbed by Miu's trademark laugh. Whether she was having a friendly conversation or actively arguing with Angie was unclear, but their intense exchange was at least easy to hear. The best he could decipher, it was about karma or something equally spiritual, but that was more or less all he could make out as their constant interruptions made it hard to know their actual thoughts on the matter. Rantaro switched focus on someone else's conversation to save himself the headache and noticed Kirumi talking to Ryoma. She spoke too softly for him to hear over the rest but their faces said enough. She had her look of gentle care he hated being faced with but Ryoma didn't seem embarrassed by it. Rather, he was as serious as Rantaro had ever seen him, even more so than during their argument all that time ago. She squeezed his shoulder and they parted to join other conversations and Rantaro could only guess what their heart to heart had been about. He found Gonta again, and that allowed Rantaro to have a recap of the conversation he hadn't noticed until then. He'd been discussing the behavior of ants in and out of colonies with Korekiyo, something they both seemed to have a lot of thoughts on. With Ryoma there, they switched to something less scientific, though Rantaro didn't know much about sports so his attention quickly dropped after that. On the couch across the table from his sofa, Shuichi and Kiibo shared a pair of earbuds to watch a video on the latter's phone. He assumed it was something funny from their faces, and he wondered what group to focus on next when a soft voice pulled him out of his observation.

"Do you want to talk for a bit?" Kaede smiled and he couldn't do anything but follow her to the plants along the side of the house. She fidgeted with her cuffs as she searched for her words and Rantaro was happy to let her as he needed his own minute to mentally prepare himself for whatever she was about to lay on him. If she thought a bit of privacy from the others was necessary, he couldn't imagine it being about anything but the Killing Game, or maybe something worse, like she'd found a corpse in one of the closets.  
"I just wanted to make sure everything was cool with, well, last time we saw each other and all."  
He tried to reassure her, like it was something he hadn't even thought about until she'd brought it up, but his pretense of casualness fell flat as he didn't stop spinning his ring.  
"Be honest, please, it's- If it's really not an issue then I'm relieved, I just want to know how you feel about it."  
He paused, his smile still frozen in place, and then he sighed. "I really don't blame you for what happened. You didn't even do anything in the first place."  
"But I tried to."  
"You didn't try to..." he let the sound die before begrudgingly letting out the next "kill me. You targeted the mastermind."  
She hummed.  
"I did the same."  
"It’s kind of silly how we had the same goal and it killed both of us." A bitter smile.  
"Maybe we should've teamed up." He tried for a lighter tone.  
"That would've been fun.” She seemed to entertain the thought for a bit. “I'm sure Shuichi would've appreciated the extra friend too!"  
"It's decided then, I'm team Akamatsu now."  
She laughed. "Thank you, Rantaro. I’ll stop worrying about it now and enjoy our vacation together." She puffed her chest, ready to take things into her own hands to make sure they’d all have a good time if needed.  
He nodded. "I hope you like it here."  
"One more thing though," She made herself sound as gentle as she could. "Are you okay? You haven't really been talking since you finished the tour."  
Rantaro paused. His first impulse was to deny the issue with a smile but he knew Kaede wouldn't let him. He figured, then, that she was probably the best person to talk to about this and so he bit the bullet.  
"I haven't... really been feeling like I'm a part of the group." He hesitated between words, still reluctant to admit his anxieties. "I didn't actually spend any of it with everyone I just... died."  
"I get it. I still feel like I betrayed everyone, you know. I might've not hit you in the end I..." She breathed in. "But I'm still part of the group! And we came here because we want to hang with you. You can be everyone's friend despite all that's happened but you have to forgive yourself too."

They kept talking for a bit. They joked lightly and subtly reminded each other they shouldn't blame themselves for their fate when they were interrupted. In front of the house, from the other end of the wall, Kokichi noticed them. He grinned when they made eye contact and started approaching as they greeted him but he cut them off to instead declare "Did you start the party without all your guests? You're such a bad host, Amami, 1 star." Kaede sighed, but Rantaro smiled, though he quickly caught himself and kept it from getting too wide before reuniting with the rest of the group. He'd stopped expecting him and he still had some of the anxiety he'd felt earlier but it was drowned in relief and joy. Somewhere in his quiet contemplation he'd convinced himself this was the group dynamic for the week, that the excited conversations would fill the house and the softer voices would close in the gaps as they gathered in odd-numbered seats. But the mood had already changed, Miu loudly choked on her tea when she noticed Kokichi with the other two, and Shuichi gave Kaito a less than subtle "Told you." Angie cheerfully waved all three over, though, and offered Rantaro a very sweet "You see, he did come after all!" At that, Kokichi looked at him, seemingly trying to read Rantaro's own reaction and the only thing he thought to do was to give his usual polite smile and feign spontaneity as he announced they could now move on to preparing dinner. His instinct was to flee and leave Kokichi to come to his own conclusions, to retreat to the kitchen to get the second surge of anxiety out. Still, Kirumi and Kiibo insisted on helping despite everyone's protests that the former should enjoy her time off instead and they followed him inside the house as Kokichi all but launched himself on a couch and immediately started bothering Korekiyo.

They worked in relative silence. Kirumi gave Kiibo some tips but aside from that and the occasional "Can you keep an eye on this for me?" Rantaro was left to chop carrots and deal with his rushing thoughts unbothered. If he was reluctant to mention how he'd ran into Kokichi, he was even more averse to admitting his joy at seeing him again, and especially the worry it brought. He didn't want the others thinking he cared less for them because he really didn't, he was just as excited that each of them had shown up. The difference was, he didn't know how to act around Kokichi. He could just sit back and let the conversation flow, he could talk of his travels or standard childhood memories or anything else. It'd be so easy to let himself be carried by his usual scripts, but he knew all of that would fall flat under Kokichi's stare. The liar knew all of it to be forced. He'd called it out before, and it was something Rantaro had needed, but not anymore. It had changed things somehow, and now that they'd both seen him vulnerable (shaking and gasping for breath, as his vision blurred and his head swam and he threatened to trip over the stairs) well, there was no going back. Rantaro couldn't pretend he was fine anymore, that he didn't have issues. He'd joke about "symptoms disorder" or "cool guy syndrome" but they were jokes, easy to brush away if they attracted any concern. With Kokichi knowing for a fact he wasn't as well adjusted as (despite all his claims he didn't) he liked to pretend to be, he didn't know how to behave. And it didn't help that he liked to believe he'd seen some of Kokichi's truer self. Or at least true-ish, which is what scared him most. He wanted to be trusted enough to know more while knowing for a fact that, for all his little panic attack did for his side of the exchange, Kokichi had never shown anything similar in return. He didn't owe him a mental breakdown, obviously, and he didn't even owe him friendship at all. Rantaro just thought it'd be a nice thing for them to have.

Dinner went over without too much chaos. The walls brought the various conversations together into one and the only interruptions were to compliment the food or tell Kokichi to quit whatever clownery he was doing. Once they'd put all the plates away Rantaro suggested they play a game and seeing general agreement, he brought a worn box of Werewolf to the living room. That briefly got Kokichi staring again. He didn't say anything, or even showed much expression-wise aside from maybe boredom, and not knowing what else to do, Rantaro did his best to ignore it. He quickly went over the basic rules and roles before giving everyone their cards. Despite the original plan, he'd decided to use his childhood game after actually opening the Dangan Werewolf they'd grabbed and seeing the differences for himself. It was mainly an issue of naming everything after aspects of the Killing Game, which should've been expected but didn't really hit until he had it in front of him. He couldn't imagine calling himself Monokuma as he GMed, or electing the Mastermind in place of the Mayor. It opposed the Spotless against the Blackeneds instead of the usual Villagers versus the Wolves and he'd opted to spare everyone the mental distress. He'd scrambled for a good half an hour desperately searching for the old box to play with instead, and seeing everyone having a good time now, he knew he'd made the right choice. Tsumugi took over GMing for the next game, and as she handled all the cards at once she commented on how worn out they were. Some corners were threatening to break off and the ones that weren't scratched were stained instead. Kaede asked if he used to play it with his sisters a lot and he chuckled. He answered he did, actually, and that they'd played it so much that their strategies got ridiculous and it was more like playing 4D chess. The group smiled at that, and someone jokingly asked him to go easy on them then, but Kokichi just stared once more. It was off-putting seeing such minute expressions on his face but Rantaro still had no idea how to react to it so he just focused on playing instead. Tsumugi had fun assigning the cards on her first game; Maki made expert use of her Little Girl role, Shuichi managed to disguise his Seer insight as pure deductive skill and Kaito only mildly protested when he was revealed as the Village Idiot. Himiko was predictably the Witch, though it took her a second game before using her death potion. Kokichi started as the Pied Piper but she admitted she should've made him the Thief after seeing him win so quickly. The Mayor bounced around, first Rantaro then Shuichi after the host turned out to have been Wolf, and finally Kaede. For their last game, Angie wanted to try her hand at GMing and Tsumugi let her on the condition she'd make her Cupid. She ended up Wolf instead, and survived for most of the game despite her suspicious votes due to everyone's apprehension at accusing her of being any kind of traitor. Similarly, Rantaro never got any votes on the first day no matter how blatantly he wasn't a Villager and Kaito stayed convinced of his sidekick's innocence until his wolf card was flipped. Angie only opened the Mayor's election once 8 players were left, and that ended in Kiibo being picked despite not running and paired with his hunter role, he ultimately turned the tide for the village, scoring them a second win.

Tenko yawned and they agreed it was time to settle for bed. They went to unload everyone's trunks and through the coming and going of people under the moonlight Rantaro realized he'd lost sight of a good half of his guests. The crisp night air kept him from getting too sidetracked though. He figured they were settling in their rooms and quickly carried the last bags inside. A couple of his friends were already waiting in the couches and he went to sit with them. The group gradually gathered again, slowly warming up, and when Rantaro understood they’d be up for another hour he got up to finish cleaning the living room. He instead found everything already put away, and Kokichi looking out the window. He turned his head in a movement too quick to be casual and Rantaro could feel worry wash over him. His eyes were a bit too wet for normal, and his frowned brows squished the humidity around; but it could’ve easily been a trick of the light- or even of Kokichi himself. Rantaro walked towards him and he didn't move, he simply watched, though this time it was clearly in annoyance.  
"Is everything ok?" He couldn't tell if it came out too genuine or too fake but he immediately regretted the tone.  
"Uh? Are you worried about me, Amami? You should worry about the spiderwebs instead, they're everywhere it's gross." He grinned and the extra gloss in his eyes was gone.  
Rantaro smiled but it came with a sigh to cover up his relief. "You should pick your bedroom soon, I think everyone else has already."

He left him on a good night that Kokichi didn't return. Everyone else had moved to their rooms already and Rantaro couldn’t help but feel weirdly alone again. The house was arguably fuller than it had been in a decade and he could hear muffled conversations through the walls but he stood by himself. He let himself fall on his bed and he thought the exhaustion of the day must’ve gotten to him. There was no reason for anything to go wrong, not when there had been so many nice moments throughout the day. If group interactions were so effortless on the first afternoon of their belated reunion they could only get better as they got used to being around each other again. He thought back to Ryoma’s smile and Kaede’s laugh and Kiibo’s pride whenever his jokes hit. He remembered how they’d worked together when they played and how nice it had been to cook with friends. He drifted to sleep confident that the next day would be filled with the same warmth, and he'd try his best to be more present this time. He wouldn’t only be the host but an active part of the group, and if the anxiety begged him to run he'd stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading! i dont have a real posting schedule for the next chapters but i know where im going so everything will be posted in due time


	2. Low Beneath the Foam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from oceans by frank iero  
> hope yall like this one! ill try not to take 2 more months to write the next chapter 😳 & any feedback is always welcome

Rantaro, Gonta, Korekiyo and Angie were hiking in the nearby woods. They'd left some time around 8, a little under an hour before Kokichi woke up, and he'd been pacing around the house since. Kirumi had forced him to get breakfast and that had given him 20 minutes of entertainment but he was still thrown out of his routine in the middle of nowhere with little to do. To say he was bored would be an understatement; he could feel his entire being yearning for something to happen, quite literally anything, as long as it didn't involve small talk or whatever it was that Maki was watching on TV. He had his phone, obviously, but he'd already scrolled through his various social feeds an hour ago and the minion meme pages only posted twice a day. He’d taken to trying to get into the light well when he spotted Shuichi and he knew he'd die on the spot if he didn't take the opportunity. He put himself in his way as naturally as he could after a ridiculous leap and acted surprised when they bumped into each other.  
"Geez, don't you watch where you're goin?" Shuichi gave him a blank stare that was more or less his equivalent of "I woke up too early to deal with your nonsense, go away." It only reinforced Kokichi in his need to keep talking, though. "I apologize in advance if I'm not as funny today," He made himself look as pitiful as he could without crying. "It's hard to lift everyone's spirits when my favorite playmate is gone." He looked up at Shuichi, scanning his face for any signs he should dial the act down- or up. "You have favorites." He didn't sound like he cared much but Kokichi cocked his head with a grin nonetheless. "Duh. Why do you think I always stick with Gonta?" Shuichi still didn't react but something seemed to switch in his eyes. Kokichi knew that look from the Class Trials, he wasn't actively searching for a way out of the conversation anymore and was instead wondering whether it'd be wise to say what he had in mind. "I thought it'd be Rantaro." He'd made his choice faster than Kokichi had expected and that threw him off. "Uh? Rantaro?" He was going to laugh in his face but Shuichi didn't flinch. "Didn't you ask where he was this morning?" His smile dropped. "No need to go full boy-detective on me, Saihara. I only asked cause one of the cabinets fell- Well, I pushed it, but don't tell anyone 'kay?" Shuichi seemed to consider it for a second. "And that'd be why you acted so weird yesterday?" Kokichi groaned but quickly perked up again with a sly smile. "I can't believe it... Are you jealous Saihara? Do you want me to bother you instead?" He opened his mouth but Kokichi went on. "I'm so sorry but emos aren't my type- neither are eboys, actually." He made a face and Shuichi took the opportunity to interrupt before he launched into an actual speech. "You know I didn't mean it that way. I just have a hard time believing you’d be here if you didn't care a little." Kokichi made a show of his lack of reaction. "I'm sorry but this is boring. See ya!" He spun on his heels and turned the first corner he saw.

Shuichi didn't seem to follow him, which was a bit disappointing but ultimately a good thing. Of course the boy detective would notice. Kokichi didn't even know what there was to notice, it wasn't out of character for him to "act weird", it was literally the only thing he ever did, but apparently he'd let something slip out yesterday. It couldn't have been his body language because none of the 16 of them could read that consistently, and it couldn't have been what he said because frankly it hadn't been much at all. Had that been his mistake? Not being enough of an annoyance? He had to remedy it. He sprinted through the house bothering everyone he could see. He stole Tsumugi's fabric scissors but she immediately pulled out another pair, went to undo Tenko's braid but she dodged him effortlessly, even Kaito who he'd tried to scare by jumping out from behind his seat only vaguely looked up. He cycled through the various rooms going from deception to deception as no one reacted the way he wanted them to. He was getting desperate on his 3rd pass at the kitchen (he pondered switching the salt and the sugar, or maybe he could mislabel a bottle or two) when Miu dragged herself in demanding left-overs.  
He sat on the kitchen table, hovering over her plate. She drank her coffee pitch black and had her toast burnt with mustard- though whether that was on purpose or not wasn't clear. She glared at him like he was so low beneath her that acknowledging him physically pained her. When he still didn't give her space, she growled.  
"You've got somethin to say?"  
"Nope!"  
"Then piss off."  
"My, my." His legs bounced like a dog wags its tail. "That's not very friendly, is it? I wonder what Kaede would think."  
She squeaked before strangling the sound in her throat. She mumbled through red cheeks that she didn't care and Kokichi leaned back, shifting his weight to his hands, pleased that his trap had worked. He admired his own win for long enough that she could recollect her thoughts, though, and she quickly called him out again.  
"Hey clown ass."  
He mentally cursed himself for reacting to that.  
"Wanna spice shit up?"

They spent some time planning in secret. They listed their potential victims, and in what ways they could torment them, until they had a comprehensive series of traps to set in motion. Ryoma was their test run. The bowl of cat food didn't make him laugh, but the updog thing did, so after high-fiving they went to carry out their newly adjusted grand scheme. Himiko followed, and the sudden swarm of balloons did just as expected- it was mildly surprising and it looked funny stuck in her hair. They scored similar wins with the others, getting Kiibo briefly stuck to the fridge among other things. They hesitated a bit before approaching Kirumi but they managed to hide her phone and move it around as they "helped" her search for a good minute before she realized what was going on. Miu still chickened out for their Maki prank though, and so they moved on to Shuichi.  
They never got to agree on what they should pull on him; they'd saved him for last in hopes they'd eventually get struck with a genius idea that never came. Miu only provided names to call him, and as funny as they were Kokichi didn't think it'd be enough. They hid behind a corner, watching him as he went on with his morning, and rapidly fired new ideas- untying his shoes, smashing his head in cake, something with a buzzer- but nothing stuck and they were getting desperate. They could trip him, they could set a physical trap, they could just turn around and be content in the other tricks they'd played, but Shuichi was right in front of them. He didn't seem as annoyed as he'd been when Kokichi last talked to him, and for a second he thought they could play it cool. They'd just have to ask him to move out of the way and make him look like the weird one for just standing there in front of them but the adrenaline had already kicked in, and it was only made worse by the fact they'd been plotting all of this together. What was a comforting collaboration quickly became helplessness as they had no time to confer.

They blurted out something at the same time. It went like "What are you lookin at, hat freak?" and "What took you so long?" superimposed but to Shuichi it was closer to "What taegihkdsg freak?". He frowned and for a second he tried to decipher it, as if it'd become a garbled mess by his own fault. "I'm sorry, did you need me for something?" He sounded incredibly confused and a little bit concerned. That assured the two geniuses that it was still salvageable, if only they aligned their stories this time. "pfftynegsgisgesbaeget you barn hour." Shuichi blinked. Miu had changed tracks to "Ye we've been callin you for like, an hour." so she'd match Kokichi's "Pfft not everything's about you bro." Clearly, they'd had the same idea. Panic started bubbling in Miu's throat and she couldn't help but start mumbling that they should just go now. She needed to escape the situation before further failure. If she'd learned one thing in her years experimenting with various contraptions it was that when a ship sank, you hoped off and built another in safer waters. She assumed Kokichi would understand the sentiment- surely he'd know when to back off, but instead he took a step closer to Shuichi.  
Kokichi was panicking just as much as his partner in crime was, if not more. He figured she was used to failure and deception and losing control. He wasn't. She'd withdrawn from the situation and that gave him all the space he needed to save this, and still he couldn't help but get distracted by the rising heat in his cheeks. He had to improvise, again, and quick, after two false starts, and somehow regain control in one single sentence. Shuichi already had the upper hand in their earlier exchange, Kokichi couldn't afford to lose twice, and still he had nothing. He'd taken a step but it had no weight. It was pure instincts telling him to confront his opponent head-on, to look into the furnace and throw a hand in it. As silly as it might've seemed from anyone else's perspective, Kokichi did consider this a fight, or at the very least a game he had to win, so he resorted to the first thing he could think of that'd throw Shuichi off. He smiled coyly and the fuzz in his brain vanished and he purred something that was pure provocation. "Miu wanted me to show her that game you beat me at, remember? The one with the knife." His voice had this low rhythm that kept Shuichi from fully processing it for the tiniest moment, before his face changed from confusion to shock to anger.  
"I know that's the last time you saw any of us but time passed, Kokichi, the Game is over."  
He walked past them and left.  
"Sheesh. That guy still has a stick up his ass, uh." Miu had regained her usual composure but Kokichi didn't notice or care. He heard himself answer a vague noise before he went straight in the opposite direction.

Kokichi paced in a corner of the house for the second time that morning. He was beyond seething. His brain was boiling with thoughts and confusion and less than kind words targeted at pretty much everyone else. He couldn't believe Shuichi had dared to pull something like that on him. What was that, even? What was he supposed to learn from it? They all liked to pretend they were so much smarter than him, so much better adjusted, like they knew what Kokichi had gone through and they could objectively grade his way of dealing with life a solid 4. Shuichi hadn't even died in that game and he still acted so pissy whenever it was brought up, and he had no originality. The whole dropping random ass wisdom before walking out had already been done by Ryoma the evening before, so Kokichi mentally gave him a 0 for the blatant plagiarism. Then he wondered who would do it next, and since Miu had only backstabbed him once he figured it'd be the perfect opportunity. She could finish the rule of 3 and just kick him down his own grave, that way they could just have fun at Rantaro's rich kid house without him. That's what they all wanted, after all, for him to move on and walk out of their lives. Their message was clear: the game was over, no continues, nothing, nada. There was nothing left for him to do but give up the controller and let the other kids play- or, not kids. Ryoma had called them that with so much of... something in his voice it'd driven Kokichi crazy. "It's hard being forced to grow up when you're still just a kid.", spoken like he pitied him. "It's not fair." It'd made him want to laugh in his face. Ryoma knew nothing about him, and it wasn't even like Rantaro's endearing ignorance. He just assumed the worst and frankly, there was no reason for him to. He was just projecting- so was Shuichi, really. Kokichi had never grown up and it was his greatest pride. He'd always find joy in toys and cartoons and sugary drinks and it made him better than everyone else. Ryoma and his stupid speeches could never get it. He tried so hard to act like an adult, like he had everything under control, such a cool guy, willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. Kokichi didn't get it.  
He was stopped in his tracks as his knees almost gave out. He had to slip into an empty room to sit down, the last thing he needed was someone to give him more "advice". His whole body was shaking and he hated every tremor of it. He always tried to keep his entire demeanor in check, every inch of his posture purposeful and under control, but sometimes it still escaped him. Those physical anomalies were the only thing that had kept Ryoma talking for so long, every involuntary twitch and hurried blink just fueled his misplaced conviction that he was somehow helping. He'd talked about "trauma" so freely, like it should've resonated with Kokichi in any way, but it'd made him shut down from boredom. To only make it worse, it was clear he wasn't talking about the Game and was instead alluding to things he had no way of knowing for certain. He'd gone on and on about how it sucked not having a safe childhood and how there were some things kids should never have to deal with, how sometimes the adults in your life just failed you and you weren't ever to blame. Kokichi knew he was referencing his run-ins with the mafia, probably that murder he'd carried and that ruined his career, but he couldn't help but find it overly dramatic. Death was, well, it just was. It didn't matter. One minute things were living, the next they were dead. Nothing to despair or develop PTSD over. He'd tried wrapping his head around the idea, back in the living room as his vision clouded, but it simply wouldn't click. His empathy seemingly stopped at the border of the particular notion. He thought he was kind of terrible for not getting it, because on some level he could. There was a reason killing was off-limits at DICE, but it still didn't go much farther than that. His comprehension could only stay at surface level for fear of realizing that he did relate, and he wasn't ready to face it. He needed the confusion to linger just a bit longer so he wouldn't have to break out of denial just yet.

His head throbbed like it was going to burst so he forced a couple deep breaths to try to remedy it. Maybe he was the one being dramatic, though he doubted it. Not overly, at least. His anger (if you could even call it that) was righteous, and as much as he hated his stupid ass emotions getting out of control, it wasn't entirely his fault. Rantaro hadn't helped. He never did. He'd barged in at the worst time and asked if everything was ok like Kokichi actually had anything else to be. He didn't have any weaknesses to show or anything to take seriously; if he sometimes needed to cool down it was simply his ADHD being overwhelmed. Nothing could hurt him and especially not vague useless talks of the past in weird, empty buildings. He didn't even know why he'd bothered showing up for his weird sleepover party but now that he was there he guessed he had to make the best of it. He tried a couple steps to check he had his balance back before going for the closest bathroom. There, he let the water on his skin finish cooling him down. His thoughts were back to their usual flow, still rushing but not spiraling. He stared at the weird mix of modern and traditional design and tried to figure out if he loved or hated it. As fun as they were to follow, the never-ending grooves in the wood kept his attention until his eyes stung and the wide stretches of white only made the dancing spots in his vision that much more noticeable, but at least it reminded him to blink. Contrasted like that, the two were soothing in a way, but also irritating. There was a wrongness to stepping on a floor covered two different ways, like it was at war with itself. The pale laminate could barely contain the dark stones and Kokichi feared he'd be caught in the crossfire. No matter which side won, it'd leave the bathroom a no man's land and he simply wasn't interested in being there when it'd all blow up.

He stepped out and was immediately called for lunch. The others had returned and they were now resting around the table, waiting for everyone to arrive. Kokichi surprised himself with how still he was able to sit after that restless morning. He guessed there was maybe hope for the day to turn out well. Rantaro and Kirumi brought out the food (because that was a thing now, Rantaro and Kirumi just cooked for all of them like they'd been doing it for years, and everyone just glossed over it like they agreed.) He tapped his knife against his plate in-between each bite and the steady bounce of his leg gave rhythm to his thoughts. He had to figure out what he wanted to do with the afternoon. Rantaro surely had some plans but they'd be boring, there was a reason Kokichi had been zoning out since the first course and it was only partially from mental exhaustion. Catching any of it would be useful in making his choice but his eyes kept glossing over his food so he guessed he'd have to do without. He could either make the effort to lighten up his own mood and stop making it everyone else's problem, or he was fine riding the buzz of crankiness until it crashed and burned. An arm reached in his field of vision and he blinked a couple times but there was no zoning back in- not yet. He didn't understand how no one else had trouble adjusting to this whole being with everyone again thing. It was a place he'd never been and with people he’d never really known and he had to somehow act normal. He figured he shouldn't be so selfish. It wasn't his vacation home after all, so he'd just do what he was best at and pester everyone until they weren't boring anymore. They'd have an awful time doing Rantaro's thing, whatever it was, so as the resident jester it was his responsibility to make it mildly tolerable. His host probably cared about it going smoothly though, so he guessed he wouldn't be able to mess with it too overtly. He'd have to be sneaky about it, prioritizing personalized side-games over grand take-overs, but it'd be feasible. He could get the intellectuals aside so they could just chat within themselves, push the jocks to one corner, then get the boring people so they don't ruin Rantaro's fun (he'll need to keep the normal ones with him so he doesn't notice all of it happening) and after a bit he could team up with the crackheads and bring everyone back together with targeted annoyance. He'd pulled more complicated plans before this should be a breeze.

Kokichi was dragged to the backyard with everyone else. They divided the teams with a mix of the sport class way and the "I'm sticking with my bff no matter what" way, leading to a team centered around Rantaro and his myriad of friends versus the 3 girls and whoever felt like tagging along with them. Kokichi saw the second team as the friendless losers, and he was unfortunately part of it. Nobody else seemed to mind and he cursed Rantaro for whatever part of being the Ultimate Adventurer made him good at hosting large groups. Separating the jocks was obviously out of the question and the nerds were actually enjoying themselves and if those two groups agreed on something Kokichi couldn’t do anything. They interrupted their first game because of some confusion over the rules. It, apparently, mattered a lot how much eliminated players were allowed to move around. They went back to playing once everyone agreed but Kokichi was already bored with it. He didn't mind dodgeball, maybe he even liked it. He was good at it too, at least the dodging and running around part, and he usually could throw but no one would give him the ball or even get it in his vague direction. He could very easily plunge the whole game into chaos, some well placed throws, some "accidental" friendly fire, a landing right between the two camps- he could even bump into a player or two! But he had to have the ball to start anything and they simply wouldn't let him. Sure, maybe it wasn't personal, with so little people out it was easy to simply blend in with your team. Still, he thought he would’ve stood out more than Ryoma. It truly was like he wasn’t there; neither Shuichi nor Miu were angrily throwing at him and though he knew the detective held grudges in mysterious ways it was still one betrayal too many from his fellow genius. Not only had their little pranking streak been cut short by her fault (he'd decided on it some time after the teams were made), she'd taken his spot with the cool kids, and that was truly unforgivable.  
They agreed on a second game and despite touching the ball this time, Kokichi was still powerless in any of it. He'd almost hit Rantaro and that had earned him a compliment, but it only made everything worse since he'd actually aimed at Kiibo. He could handle Miu leaving him behind, some part of him knew that she didn't actually do anything wrong and if anything he had failed her, but Rantaro somehow stung. He didn't want him on his team, and that was barely a rejection, but he still couldn't let it go. Sure, they'd have more fun exchanging playful throws but Rantaro refused the rivalry. He smiled and gave encouragement as the game tensed and Kokichi couldn't bear that. He'd tripped and fallen directly on his hands and though it was on purpose he still judged the lack of reaction inappropriate. Offensive, even. If Rantaro could take his eyes off him long enough to miss it, if he refused to argue when the ball landed on the line in-between courts, if he let him keep it and stall the game without even counting the seconds, then... Kokichi didn't know. He had no conclusion to that train of thought but he knew it bothered him, and he'd just made his decision. If he couldn't figure out what his own problem was he'd just have to make it everyone else's too and see where that took them. He passed Himiko the ball with a lot more force than necessary. He aimed for peoples knees. He got Kaito right in the face. Maybe he let himself be hit by Kirumi so she'd get back in the court and the game would go on longer. Maybe he stood right below the sun and let his watch catch the light, and if it reflected it in peoples faces well, he didn't notice. Maybe he targeted whoever was close to Rantaro so they'd stumble onto him as they dodged.

The game ended without any of his input; a rebound hit Maki from behind and it was over. Rantaro shook everyone's hand and Kokichi wondered what he'd do once he got to him. Would he personally kick him for trying to ruin everyone's fun? Would he crush his fingers through a bitter smile? Kokichi surprised himself as he didn't bite the hand he'd been offered. Other instincts kicked in instead and he faked him out and flicked his nose. Rantaro didn't seem to care for very long though, and he went back to talking right after. Tsumugi (who'd barely done anything the entire game, though Kokichi couldn't really blame her as it was hard being motivated when you were part of the friendless team) congratulated him on what a great player their dear host was, and she somehow felt the need to bring up his sisters. It didn't help that Kaede joined her, actively asking more about them, and the only consolation Kokichi had was that Rantaro seemed as uncomfortable with it as he was. There was something overly familiar to the way they talked about it. They acted like they knew him so well and they were such close friends and Kokichi just wanted to gag. One of them had killed the man, and so had the other actually, and still they felt like talking about his family. It looked like they knew him better than Kokichi who had stayed up all night with him, who'd held his hand the whole way through and who'd kept him from collapsing on the old library's floor; and Rantaro agreed.  
It wasn't just the two of them either, Rantaro was friends with everyone here except for him, and maybe that was why it stung so much. He made the effort to talk with Gonta when he drifted too far from the group, something he'd never extended to Kokichi. He guessed dying before anyone could turn ugly made it easier, though why that wouldn't apply to him then was still a mystery. Were they just more worthy of the attention? They were nicer people for sure, at least the majority of them were. Kokichi still didn't understand why Rantaro would want to talk with Korekiyo, what he found so interesting about death rites escaped him, though Kokichi had never tried to have a real conversation with him, or any of them for that matter. The closest he'd gotten to that had been with Rantaro and well, that had turned out just great. To him, most of the ex-students were either sources of entertainment or deeply annoying and so there were no reasons for him (or anyone) to talk with them. If Kokichi glared as Rantaro chatted with Kaito (one of the rare mixes of both categories) it was only in utter incomprehension and not some sort of longing for... what? Friendship? That would simply be ridiculous in the most boring way. Kokichi didn't need friends. If anything, he needed subordinates. He guessed Miu could be a comrade and if Kirumi abandoned her government job she could go back to being a fun nuisance, but that was it. He already had DICE to keep him busy (and how busy it kept him!) he simply didn't need any more.

Still, he found himself unable to look away as Maki and Kaede shared an easy laugh. They ate dinner and Shuichi and Kaito referenced their inside jokes, Tenko and Angie sat side by side, leaning in each other's space in the simplest form of comfort, even Tsumugi and Korekiyo, who he'd never expected to have anything in common, were exchanging playful jabs, and maybe it made him think a bit. It all seemed so foreign to him like it'd simply slide off him like water if he tried to make the gestures his. He wasn't so oblivious as to not understand them, and he could show his own forms of affection with the right people, but he couldn't see how the others had managed to have it with each other. They'd all met at the same time and Kokichi had survived longer than most of them and still he'd never realized they'd been growing genuine relationships all this time. He'd figured that they'd been sticking together out of necessity and had to trust each other so they wouldn't crumble under the maddening stress of their captivity. It was all something Kokichi obviously didn't need to cope, so he hadn't bothered socializing much, or even having any faith in his peers, and so apart from a couple duos it was all entirely unexpected and strange. He guessed the main difference had been trust, and if he was more willing to let other people in and see him for who he was he wouldn't have spent the afternoon not-so-subtly testing out if Rantaro, or anyone, cared. He couldn't exactly force himself to trust people though, and in all honesty he didn’t want to. It only made things more fun for him. They weren't his friends and that meant he could just mess with everyone as he felt like and not a single part of him would have to worry about how that made them feel.

Rantaro had apparently planned the whole day with very little time to just kick back and do nothing. As soon as the dinner table was free of plates, he brought out a little thing of colorful cards and started dealing them. Uno wasn't Kokichi's favorite game but it was easy enough to disrupt; throw a couple +2s at the start and everyone goes wild. He played through the first ones on auto-pilot, putting down his cards without too much trickery and only causing the normal amount of annoyance that changing the color to green usually brings. That was still enough for some people to start regularly piling up hands so full not even Gonta could hold them properly. Kiibo was one of those unlucky souls, though he might've just been unwilling to use his +2s to shift his misery to someone else. Angie was another one, though she seemed to be doing some of it on purpose as part of an obscure plan. Everyone's good-natured complaints finished lifting his mood so he thought it was time to shake things up. He won their current game on a joker and used the chaos to argue about the rules- could he do that? Had he even said uno? That was a +4 though, should they end the turn and see if he actually won? He kept peppering such discussions as the games went on. He objected to Shuichi putting a +2 on a +4, then to him putting a +4 on a +4, before putting two +2s on it himself. His justification went from "+4 is an unstoppable force that can't be curbed even by itself" to "two cards are stronger than one and 2+2=4 so two +2s totally go on a +4". That got him banned from the next game but if Maki's glare was anything to judge from it'd been worth it. He'd noticed Kaede mirroring his habit of calling 0s Os and Ryoma was expertly changing colors to annoy Kaito so he wasn't the only one having fun with it either. He repaid him during the next game when he used a joker to change the color to blue- something no one had except the tennis man.  
Kokichi was back in his familiar routine, messing with people in mostly harmless ways. He was starting to plan out what he could pull when Uno time would be over. He thought he could annoy Tenko into giving him kicking lessons, or get Korekiyo started on one of his famous ghost stories so no one would be able to get any sleep at all. He was wondering how to get Miu on board with his next plan as he slipped an extra card in-between his two 3s. Kirumi played without saying anything, and so did Tsumugi, so he figured coast was clear and he could go back to his evil machinations for the remainder of the turn when he lifted his head from his cards and caught Rantaro very clearly staring. It was like being hit by a truck, his blood ran cold and he felt his mood crash and break his worries free. Rantaro wouldn't look at him like that if he didn't know something was up, and Kokichi had been desperately trying to confirm such a thing all day but now that he had it he wondered how he could've ever wanted it. It was horrifying to know he'd been seen through like that, and he didn't care about cheating anymore, but he didn't care about Rantaro either. He was probably just mad about Uno, Kokichi decided, and that was enough for him to swallow all his conflicting feelings down. If his immediate reaction hadn't been to stick out his tongue already he would've done it again, and when it was time for their last game Kokichi had fully convinced himself nothing had even happened as he opened the discourse on changing the turn order when only two people were left.

Rantaro had insisted on tidying up the dining room on his own and Kokichi was very happy to oblige. He could still squeeze in one "begging Himiko to show him a magic trick" before exhaustion hit him and he was going to make the best of it as soon as Rantaro was done convincing Kirumi away. "Ah, actually." He got everyone's attention again. "I might need your help, Kokichi." His tone made it clear he had his reasons and no one was brave enough to question them. They just left, and Kokichi's mind blanked as the door closed. Rantaro clearly didn't need him specifically to help pick up the black cards. He didn't ask him to straighten out the table cloth either, and there were no dishes for him to clean. He leaned on the table, desperately trying to keep his mind from processing the obvious. Rantaro wanted to talk, and usually Kokichi would've been all-in for it; he loved talking, it was an unique opportunity to plant doubts and water them and see them bloom into embarrassingly false conclusions. It was a great way to practice lying and most games started with a conversation and, well, he also just had a lot of thoughts he needed to share sometime. But as he watched him slip each card in his hand, he thought he was going to explode. There was a quiet buzz under his skin, a nervousness he simply couldn't shake off whenever the other man was at the center of his attention. He felt his lungs struggle against his ribs, as if Rantaro had grasped his diaphragm instead, and when Kokichi was faced with that quiet focus he thought he'd take being choked a hundred times over whatever this was. Finally, Rantaro tapped the worn box of cards against the table (1, 2, 3 times) and turned to face him. Kokichi wished he hadn't been admiring the pointed gesture and its misplaced grace because he was now meeting his eyes again and he could feel the unknown pressure build up in his cheeks and tighten his throat.  
"Are you-" Rantaro's voice cracked slightly. "Is everything alright?"  
"Are you gonna ask me every night?"  
Rantaro waited a bit, no doubt silently judging that weak delivery. "I just want to make sure everything is cool." He smiled something overly gentle and caring. It was entirely faked and they both knew it. Kokichi couldn't be fooled by it, not when he was a liar himself and not after he'd seen Rantaro's real smile- but he forced himself to let go of the thought. Instead, he threw his hands up.  
"Ah you found me out!" He had to stay focused on his eyebrow piercing so he could deliver his lines properly. "I'm coming clean! I'll confess everything!" He paused but Rantaro didn't react yet. "What is it I'm guilty of, officier Amami?"  
His eyes shifted to something darker, like a mask being dropped. Kokichi recognized the look from their time talking in the abandoned building, when he caught a glimpse of a Rantaro too preoccupied to smoothen his glare, too tired to tailor his face. He sighed, and then it was gone. "This-" He stopped spinning his ring to gesture at the air. "You've been playing games all day, are you upset a-at" He stuttered. "Are you upset?"  
A snort. "Upset?" He was starting to crack up and he hoped Rantaro couldn't tell he was panicking. "Games? Y-" He struggled against the bubbling anxiety. "You realize that's all I ever do, right? Playing games and pranks and tricks, that's my whole brand! That's all I'm for!" He felt so small and seen it made him ill. His head swam and he had to steady himself against the table. He didn't understand what was so funny about all of this or why he was behaving this way. All he knew was the drumming of the lights against all his senses and how vulnerable he felt. This morning was so far away he couldn't remember what had him so worked up anymore.  
Rantaro frowned, but Kokichi had seen it before. He wasn't annoyed, he was treating him like a puzzle he couldn't figure out. He opened his mouth but interrupted himself when Kokichi jumped to sit on the table. After another pause, he tried again. "So there's no issue?"  
"Duh. If there was, could I be lying so flawlessly?" He looked him straight in the eyes and he was starting to believe it himself. It didn't matter how Rantaro felt if Kokichi himself didn't care about him. Truly, he was fine, because none of this farce had ever been real.  
"I see."  
Kokichi started bouncing his legs. "So? What's your verdict?"  
A blank stare.  
"Am I guilty? What's my sentence, your judgeness?"  
Rantaro sighed, and whatever he said Kokichi couldn't hear over the deep buzzing in his ears. He realized what had been bothering him and it was so simple and weak he didn't want to admit it. Rantaro had been trying to forget they'd ever met. He wasn't smiling at him like he had in the Mastermind's room and they'd played Werewolf but not the one they'd stolen and he started the party without him and he felt like now that Rantaro was talking to the others he didn't need him anymore and he was ready to move on, but what happened if Kokichi wasn't? What if Kokichi missed being the bad guy, missed buying into all his own lies, missed not worrying about being despised because he was only playing a role anyway? He wished Rantaro had never seen his lab and his room and his face. He wished they hadn't held hands for so long. He wished Rantaro had never shown him any honesty so Kokichi wouldn't have felt loved for the first time.

He blinked and Rantaro was standing much closer than he'd been a second ago. He let Kokichi's wrist go and that's when he noticed he'd been grabbed at all.  
"So you decided to lock me up after all?" His voice lacked its usual energy. It didn't sound like a joke and more like a genuine worry and if he'd been any less tired he would've visibly cringed.  
There was a quick but painful pause before Rantaro answered. "You're getting the death penalty since you won't stop acting a clown." He tried a smile but it only made it all so worse.  
Kokichi frowned. His first instinct was to tell him to shut up and how dared he talk about things he didn't know but he couldn't get the words out. Not only was he assuming things about Kokichi but he was right. How Rantaro could have guessed his relationship with DICE had been crumbling was beyond him but it didn't make it hurt any less. Kokichi simply wasn't enough anymore. He didn't have what it took to keep meeting with them, he didn't know how to make new friends, and now he wasn't whatever Rantaro wanted him to be either. He could take the critique, hell, he'd heard it before, but to get it from a man who'd spent his life running away from his problems, it pissed him off. So what if he should take things more seriously and be more quiet and not move around so much? Rantaro was in no place to give lessons on emotional availability.  
"What's the procedure for you then?"  
He chuckled awkwardly but seeing the forced laugh didn't hurt anymore.  
"Your entire personality is fake, surely there's a punishment for that?"  
Rantaro stuttered, his ring spinning in its usual flawless rhythm for a couple seconds before he'd recollected himself enough. "Is that a joke?"  
"Nope! Jokes are usually funny, you know."  
"Is that what this whole thing has been about? You don't like me so you're acting out?" He made it sound so ridiculous and pathetic, Kokichi realized he'd been wrong about that night at the Academy. He thought he'd seen glimpses of truth before but it'd just been another layer of fake, a second, or third, or fourth, constructed personality and finally, the true Rantaro was showing and making his feelings sound like a burden. He said he didn’t understand how he thought, that he didn't know anything about him, and it was an unnecessary nail in the coffin. He went on, and Kokichi forced himself to speak up so it'd stop.  
"God- You talk so much and you don't say anything. Are you upset I'm not your friend? Do you want me to play nice?"  
"I'm just asking you to be decent. You can hide yourself behind a wall of jokes and lies if you want but not everyone will be your friend."  
"So it is the lying you're mad about, how original!"  
"The lying's- You do realize talking to you is so complicated and stressful most people don't even bother?"  
"You're the one who wanted to talk! Didn't your mom teach you not to blame others for your own mistakes?"  
"B-"  
"Are you really so naive you think lies never hold any kind of truth? Will you really face me and pretend you've never lied yourself? Are you ever gonna get over the fact I'm not the person you thought I was?"  
"Do you really believe that?" He let his ring go. "You're acting the way I feared you would, you didn't break my perception of anything, Kokichi."  
The way Rantaro said his name like the sounds themselves were a disappointment was all the confirmation he needed. All the warmth his words once had was gone, all that mattered to him was his little reunion after all.  
"You're so mean and cruel, Rantaro." He pouted by habit. "But you're right, I really needed to hear that. Thank you, I'm a changed man!"  
His lips twitched. "I'm not asking you to stop joking altogether but can you please be honest, just for now, and I'll leave you alone for the rest of your life."  
Rantaro said it like it was what Kokichi wanted and he knew his plan had worked. He'd managed to switch it around, to convince them both that he was the one rejecting Rantaro. Now all he had to do was bite.  
"Oh? You want the truth? I was better at the game than you ever were. Did you survive your first or did you just push everyone else under the bus to save your own skin? Maybe you deserved a second game. You weren't even good at sacrificing yourself, you had to take Kaede with you. I had to fix your mistake and I actually won! I beat Monokuma and if it weren't for your precious truth-loving friends that's when it would've ended- Is that what you want to hear?"  
"Is that what you think?"  
"How fucking boring can you be? You're supposed to like adventures and mysteries. Stop asking me to lead you by the hand and figure this one out for yourself."  
Rantaro took a deep breath and let out a shaky sigh and he said good night and he was gone. Kokichi was left to swallow down his emotions and deal with the residue energy that made his head spin all over again. He stared through the open door at the empty hallway and he couldn't process what had happened. Was it over? Had he won? Was Rantaro ever going to speak to him again? He'd said he didn't know him and Kokichi thought it was for the best. There was no honesty he could give him that'd make up for the lies and no vulnerability that wouldn't leave him rotting. He'd screwed up before their conversation had started, before he'd set foot on the property and before the Game had even begun. He thought that, maybe some people simply weren't meant to be loved and everyone who'd try the feat was a fool and he was the biggest clown of all. He let himself slide to the floor, overwhelmed with confusion and nausea, but at least he didn't wonder what Rantaro would look like mad anymore.


	3. Means to a Dead End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from beasts by saintseneca  
> hi i took way too long to write this one :) the last half should be easier for me to write but college is still killing my mental health so well see ♥

Rantaro's eyes flew open and he would've jumped straight out of bed if his body wasn't still convinced it was dead. Sweat dripped from his forehead and he swore it had been thick blood moments ago. His heart was painfully beating against his ribs, a throbbing reminder that it had only been a dream. It hurt to think and it hurt to breathe and it hurt to live with the memory. He rolled on his side and curled up against himself, the heavy blanket hugging his settling heartbeat. He closed his eyes and pain shot behind the lids. Each breath filled his lungs like it was the first time, it scraped its way down his throat and kicked his lungs wide. He sat up on the edge of his bed and his vision lagged behind. He stared at the wall and then the floor and then his knees and by the time he realized he'd lost another dozen minutes his eyes had already filled with tears. He stayed there for a bit. The lingering confusion cloaked him and it was its own odd kind of reassuring. The sobs warmed his cheeks and that too felt good despite the growing headache. It pulsed on beat with a relentless noise and the dim light around him finally made sense. It was raining; droplets pressing themselves against the glass to reassure him it was ok, the sky had thrown the day out for him, he could lay in bed and try again tomorrow. He found the offer kind but he couldn't take it. He'd planned to bring his friends to the nearby lake and though he'd rather keep it for a sunny day he still had to come up with a backup plan. He opened his notes app and with the screen's light blurring his vision, he erased the first ones from his list.  
He let himself sink in the pillows and he tried to ignore the anxiety picking at his pores. He'd almost managed to forget he had social obligations, and with them a grand deal of polite smiles and well timed jokes and general niceness he didn't have the mind for. He looked through all his neat memos and nothing felt right. The very idea of group activities sounded like torture. He wanted to hang with everyone, he really did, but he didn't want to mask his distress and he didn't want to show it either. The phantom sensations were leaving him with a throat too tight to get any sound out and still he couldn't bring himself to abandon his guests over general bad vibes accumulating in his stomach.  
He took a deep breath and stood up. He opened his bedroom door and Kokichi was right there. He frowned, but his lips stayed shut, and then he left. Rantaro wondered if he'd heard him crying.

Kokichi lounged in one of the living room couches. Miu and Kiibo were playing chess next to him, providing perfect background noise as he stared at the ceiling. He'd gotten a hair tie from Korekiyo, something that had taken both by surprise. They'd found each other in the bathroom, and before he knew it Kokichi had lost his fingers in their hair. Each knot he untangled made his that much dryer and the way he brushed it gently felt uncanny after years of harshly bending and twisting his own strands into broken curves. He remembered a time he'd drowned it all in hairspray, the sticky substance choking his pores, just to get any bit of purple out of his eyes. He'd almost stolen scissors just to cut it, and still it had kept on growing longer and heavier, needing more and more attention he'd always refused but that he found himself curious of now that soft hair entertwined with his fingers, caressing his knuckles. He wondered if it would ever feel good again, but it didn't preoccupy him as he stretched the thin elastic between his fingers. There was something else that the moody weather wouldn't let him forget and that each drop underlined a bit more forcefully than the last, and it seemed minor against everything else but the incessant backdrop of chess pieces had gotten his mind thinking already. He'd bumped into Rantaro (or rather, they'd made eye contact and all his organs had crashed into his bones) but he hadn't gotten a single sound from the other man. There had been no good morning, no passing acknowledgement, not even a dismissive noise, and Kokichi couldn't let it go. He'd been spinning the simple fact in his head since he'd woken up and tried to grasp all of its implications but he didn't like any of them. Of course, Rantaro had promised this very predicament the evening before, but Kokichi found it hard to believe he'd actually stick to it. Not ever speaking to each other again seemed really inconvenient when they were sharing a house for a couple more days. Though those kinds of circumstances had never stopped him, he doubted Rantaro had the same kind of commitment to the bit. But again, if the silent morning was a sign of anything, Rantaro wasn’t joking, and Kokichi was afraid of his commitment to promises.  
He guessed he was a bit grateful for it too, because this time he was making himself lay idly through someone else's game to avoid talking to him. If neither of them made the first move they could stay frozen in this awkward stalemate until the end of the week (or even longer, if something happened to keep them in this summer house for months, Kokichi was certain their combined stubbornness could handle it). It was therefore ultimately pointless to think about, so he expelled the thought from his mind and the hair tie with it. Miu immediately riposted, taking the opportunity to break out of her own awkward standoff. She launched the pieces at him, and as Kiibo joined in, Kokichi had to shield himself with a pillow and laughter bubbling in his throat. He jumped over the couch and gathered his ammo quickly before his opponents reopened fire. He ran from them, followed by the sound of explosions, though the smiles that mimicked them took away any shadow of a threat and the room filled with a warm light. Kokichi's head turned to the doorway so he could witness the one brave enough to step in an active battlefield and he froze. Rantaro was walking towards him. Kirumi waved at him from the door but he didn't see her. He didn't see Rantaro wordlessly grab a book off the floor and walk back out of the room either.  
The door clicked in place and when Kokichi looked again Miu and Kiibo were back to playing chess. His eyes glossed over to the window, where rain was incessantly tapping again. He stared at the moody skies long enough the dull clouds burned themselves in his eyes.

It wasn't uncomfortable; with slightly colder weather it could've easily been cozy. After a silent lunch Kiibo lit the fireplace and filled the room with an awkward warmth. It clinged to Rantaro's skin, but it complimented the rain nicely. He liked it; he liked rainy days, he liked staying inside as the grey clouds mixed the different hours into one cohesive whole that couldn't be wasted. He wanted to share it with his friends, as soon as his muscles would listen and he knew what to say. Lunch had given him the time he needed to regain his voice somewhat, but it had also reminded him of the energy needed to deal with Kokichi and how he simply didn't have it. He didn't want to ignore him, none of the avoiding was on purpose, but he couldn't take the mind games when he was barely verbal. He'd tried looking at him but each kick just made him avert his eyes in fear of something he didn't know. Kokichi's restlessness was nothing new but this time it seemed to match the confused beating of his heart and if he finally found something to tell him he hoped the cutlery would speak for him because the clacking of the plates cut through the fog and made his throat feel tighter and tighter. The quick glimpses he'd sneaked only made it harder to think straight. The dark purple eyes made his brain short-circuit, there was too much in them, a pile of expectations Rantaro knew he could never meet, and a river of bitterness for things he'd never wished. He knew they'd have to talk again eventually, but the more hours he could put between them the better he felt. He found a sort of tranquility in the still rhythm of the rain. He thought if the room got any warmer he could get lost in the week and forget about the consequences.

Kokichi hated silence. It made his brain turn to static and his nerves jump out. This wasn't his space, he wasn't at his headquarters, he couldn't simply zone out and not talk to anyone. He was surrounded with people judging his every move and who expected him to act like a clown- but if he did they'd complain about it and he'd get yelled at some more and he'd start biting his own skin off in desperation for quite literally anything to happen. He needed to take control of the flow but the events of the day before kept clawing at his mind screaming how stupid that idea was. He'd already tried, and failed, and failed, and failed again, to make this little trip not boring and not uncomfortable and not silent. No one wanted to talk to him, and it was fine because he could still annoy them, but now he spent each second in blinding awareness that Rantaro was definetely avoiding him and keeping his pretty mouth shut as some sort of hands off torture. He couldn't help it, he couldn't stop himself from feeling hurt by it and he couldn't quit needing anything to distract him from all his worst fears coming true. So he broke his end of the unspoken contract that made his heartbreak fun in a shitty way. He stopped slipping out of rooms once Rantaro entered them, he didn't sneak around corridors to spare him the sight of his face, and he didn't keep his mouth shut when he walked in Kaede teasing the old piano. He waltzed in and took his usual tone and complained fortissimo how disappointed he was they couldn't go to the lake today, how he was sooo looking forward to swimming, and pianissimo he thought, how badly he wished he could've been drowning his worries in the clear water instead of having the rain water them.

In the kitchen, Ryoma and Himiko dealt cards. The coffee machine buzzed under Miu's finger, stubbornly covering up the sound of the magician's deft shuffling. She showed her tricks to an attentive audience, a quiet awe forming between the cupboards as she kept presenting the right card, playing the right hand and hitting the right jokes. In the room next door, Tenko and Korekiyo patiently awaited their coffee to the drum of the martial artist's fingers. The conversation had slowed to a comfortable lull and it'd pick up again when Kaede would return. She'd left the dining room to talk to Maki, pressed against the fence of the cloudy light well. They'd sometimes be interrupted by the coming and going of their friends getting bored of the movie, or just needing to stretch, or trying to make themselves disappear into the walls. Down the corridor, they could hear echoes of another conversation as it moved to the patio. Nothing alarmed them yet, but at times the air would noticeably still. The rain would get a bit more violent and everyone would quiet down until it passed, and as easily as it came it would simply go away. Rantaro and Kokichi's paths kept crossing, and each time went more or less the same. Surprise would light their eyes, and as it trickled down their backs a vague sense of shame would take its place before quickly turning bitter and once it was replaced by annoyance they would go on their separate ways without a word. It was obvious to anyone who watched but the rain cloaked it from anyone who didn't wish to see. Kiibo, Gonta, Kaito, Angie and Shuichi watched an old movie together.

The afternoon went and dinner came and Rantaro lied. He locked himself in the kitchen after telling everyone that dessert wasn't ready yet. Kokichi saw that act of cowardice as a relief. Finally he wouldn't have to pretend he didn't see him staring at him every other second; though it meant he couldn't steal his own glances back either. The little game had made the crushing nothing of lunch somewhat bearable. He liked to see a parody of communication in it, and to keep a keen eye on the position of Rantaro's fork, and his knife. The idle signs were gone now, and Kokichi kept looking back at the door waiting for the annoyance in chief to come back.  
Rantaro couldn't stop replaying his encounters with Kokichi as he nervously paced in the kitchen. He was restless enough to put the subject of his worries to shame, and he realized that he was cutting himself off from the group again but his thoughts simply didn't stop coming. He'd tried silently sitting in a room with his friends waiting for his voice to come back, and it would work until Kokichi barged in; he'd get up to bring everyone snacks and Kokichi would be in the kitchen; he'd take a walk around the house in hopes of clearing his head and accidently sabotage one of Kokichi's games. Each time would make his anxiety skyrocket and if he'd been able to say a word before, he'd quickly get non-verbal again, and too tired to offer an explanation and too nervous to face him, he'd leave.  
Kokichi kicked the table whenever he needed the noise and the shake of everybody's knives would please his mind for a bit. He needed all he could find to fill the silence, all the tiniest things in hope that they'd delay the boredom and distract his mind from the moment Rantaro would walk back in without giving him a single thought. Like every time they'd bumped into each other, nothing would happen and they'd go on pretending it never even occurred, and like every time it would add to the pile of confirmations that Rantaro had dug his heels deep in the sand. He wouldn't break the nothing, he wouldn't give any sign, they'd never work it out. They were done, though there had never really been a "they" in the first place, just two people running into each other by coincidence, paths that should've only crossed once.  
Rantaro knew it wasn't what a host should do, but he wondered if it was what a friend would and with that, the question of whether they were still (or had ever been) friends would take over his thoughts. He'd made a promise but he wondered if he should keep it; if both parties were unhappy with it, was it ok to break it? Would his hands stop shaking if he presented them with moral justification he should talk to Kokichi again? Rantaro wasn't happy to simply zone out and not talk and keep pretending nothing had happened. He wanted to make everything right and he wished his voice would stop scratching against his throat. He wished he could say "I didn't mean it" and "I shouldn't have" and "How can I make it up to you?" and "I'm sorry" but nothing came out. Guilt overwhelmed him and he had to stay quiet or everything he'd left unsaid would come spilling out. So he waited for the right time, and the right moment. If he had a good sleep, and the weather offered them a nice afternoon, he would. If not, then the day after that, as soon as he knew what to make of his own thoughts on the matter he'd take the leap. He'd break the spell and the right words would croak out and he'd bleed but it'd be worth it, if only it meant Kokichi wouldn't be upset anymore.  
Frankly, Kokichi wasn't waiting for an apology. He didn't care for those. He wanted a sign, anything, that he shouldn't just give up on this, that he could keep his memories untainted, that there had been a point to what they'd shared. But Rantaro gave him nothing. He was still just as bitter for reasons Kokichi still didn't understand, so he'd take the hint. He'd leave Rantaro alone, and when he came back to sit at the dinner table, neither said anything.

The flow of the meal stayed frozen. All 16 of them were trapped under the heavy rain, unable to do anything about it but wait for the dam to break. Kokichi hated it so much he practically leaped out of his seat the moment he finished his plate; his feet already at the door when the knife scattered on the table. Most of them looked but Rantaro stared. His gaze lingered on Kokichi's hair as it roughly followed behind his head, and he might've not realized he was doing it but the evil leader did, and he didn't like it. As quickly as he'd left the table, he stopped, his hand hovering over the handle in a second of hesitation before he barked.  
"What? Was yesterday not enough for you?"  
The air tensed. Rantaro's shoulders did too. Everyone stilled, bracing themselves for more, fearing that it'd escalate, that Rantaro would get up too, that Kokichi would go on, that they'd finally break the deafening silence; but nothing came. Kokichi's hand met the handle and he disappeared behind the door. Everything was frozen and unsaid, trapped at the bottom waiting for anyone to help it surface. There was no story to spin, only a confusing cautionary tale and if things went on like this, caught in the throats of an angry clown and a ghost, then they'd choke on it. They'd drench the rest of the week in that weird tension and stillness and both men would then ghost each other for the rest of their lives and Tsumugi thought that, it simply wasn't a satisfying ending. She had to take things into her own hands or she’d drown too.

Tsumugi found Rantaro in the kitchen scrubbing a clean plate above the dishwasher. He didn't react when she gently took it from his hands and set it down next to the drying rack. "Do you want some tea?" She moved to the kettle and pulled out two mugs when he nodded. She leaned against the counter waiting for the water to boil. Watching Rantaro zone in and out all day gave her some perspective. She doubted a simple disagreement with Kokichi would've kept him in this state, there was something else mingling with whatever conflict they had. She had her own idea of what that might be, though with Rantaro these things were easy to guess, a general gesture of "the past" would cover most possibilities; and if that wasn't it then "denial". She poured the water and sat down at the table with him. "Can you talk?" A noise that struggled and died in his throat. He was spinning his ring again in one of his calmer patterns; the steady rotation betrayed most of his thoughts and she forced herself to take her eyes off of it. It felt too much like cheating. "Is it something you want to talk about?" He hesitated, and then nodded, and Tsumugi was glad he was too tired to pretend everything was fine or she would've started to mold waiting for that decision. She kept the back and forth going with yes or no questions until the sounds didn't suffocate in Rantaro's mouth anymore. He set his mug down and the only shake in his voice was due to the topic he was about to approach.  
"It's a dream I have."  
She said nothing.  
"I had."  
They both waited.  
"It's about the game."  
She sat and listened as his thoughts started to spill. He stopped himself short of the blunt words, leaving the specifics implied but she didn't need to hear them. She knew what he was going to say before he'd admitted it; she'd been there.  
"It won't leave me- I can't" A sharp breath. "Stop thinking about it." He was getting frustrated. Despite her best efforts Tsumugi noticed his eyes got wetter. "I can feel blood drip from my skull. It's been there all day and it's distracting and the noise- the rain, it's the same. The droplets."  
"Did you miss it?"  
He stuttered.  
"I heard from Kiibo you had those pics printed."  
"I did." He quickly corrected himself, "Ask for the pics. I wanted to know."  
"Why?"  
He didn't know. He died trying to solve the mystery so waking up it only felt natural to keep the investigation going. He looked into the Game to give himself purpose and hoped what he found would satisfy him.  
"Did it?"  
It didn't. The search never ended and all the loose ends kept bouncing in his skull. Somewhere, he thought, he did miss it.  
"When did you stop?"  
They both knew he didn’t. He never took dead ends or solutions for answers, he’d always jumped to the next mystery since his first sister disappeared. He would only ever move the goalpost and keep himself moving. Keep himself alive. Not that long ago he'd gone back to the Academy and at that memory he stopped talking.  
Tsumugi hummed. "You do realize you can't go on like this forever?"  
He knew but he wished he could. If he stopped he'd have to come to terms with his new life. He'd have to grieve.  
"So you're still scared of moving on, but what's the deal with Kokichi then?"  
His ring stopped and a second later he had a quiet laugh. Tsumugi was slightly scared of how quickly any glimmer of honesty had left Rantaro's eyes. He got up to put the cups in the sink and she didn't have to strain herself to see the sims -- icon above his head. She'd finally said the wrong thing. After 5 riskier questions, Kokichi was still the hardest topic. Rantaro's gaze stayed vaguely unfocused on the kitchen wall and it didn't take an especially perceptive mind to know something bigger was up. Something he wasn't ready to talk about, something that was still stuck in his throat, harder to swallow than the Game.

Tsumugi left the kitchen knowing who she had to talk to next. Behind her, Kokichi's hurried footsteps found her first.  
"Boo!"  
Tsumugi stared at him.  
"Aw did that not scare you even a little bit?" The kicked puppy face. Textbook kokichiism so far.  
"What is it?"  
"Uh? Oh that's called a prank. I tried to surprise you for fun. Do you not prank each other at conv- ow"  
That punch was playful, and she'd made sure to avoid any past injury- real or fictive. She just hoped whatever Kokichi had found her for was more pressing to him than pretending she'd just seriously wounded him.

After a minute of holding his arm with a knee on the floor Kokichi finally started talking. He looked up at her and asked how she'd done it. He didn't give her time to explain how punching worked, he went on, and his words hurt a bit but she kept that thought for later.  
"There's no secret to friendship, you just talk to people and hope they talk back."  
"See, that's what I'd expect from Kaito but you weren't some dumbass astronaut, Shirogane. You were the Mastermind."  
She agreed but she wouldn't admit it. The role had everything to make it impossible to keep these people as friends and yet she liked to think she'd done it, and Kokichi validated that.  
"I tried it for a hot sec you know- Guess you do know since you literally monitored everything we did and all." A laugh.  
She'd done more than that actually. She'd learned everyone's complete history and the way they talked and the way they moved. She had lists of triggers for each of them, things she could weaponize without them noticing, things she did without caring. It was a weird headspace that she kind of missed, the same way Rantaro missed the savior role, the same way Kokichi missed being the antagonist.  
"-But everyone plainly hates you when you're Mastermind! That must've been a real plain in the ass."  
"It didn't seem to bother you at the time."  
"Oh but I was doing something completely different, and with a bit more class. I didn't have your cheat sheets for one; just a humble jester trying to keep his court from killing each other." He bowed and she had to stop herself from curtsying back.  
She kept silent about the blood on his hands.  
"Come on Miss Mastermind, give me some credit! I did make your game way more interesting. You at least must've liked me."  
"I didn't like anyone. Once the game was on I was surviving as much as everyone else was."  
"Well that's plainly a lie." He pouted but his mean grin took over again quickly enough. "You had the mastermind room didn't you."  
"And you had your bedroom, didn't stop you from dying."  
He faked shock to cover up the very real hurt and he stuttered dramatically until he found some words again. "Well, Rantaro figured out your shitty secret passage in 2 seconds, so."  
"What's the real issue here, Kokichi?"  
"There's no issue, I just wanted a little bit of advice from one bad guy to the other."  
"So it's because you can't break out of that role? Or because you don't want to?"  
"Uh?" He mimicked thinking while his eyes betrayed his current panic. She worried he might lash out, but he calmed down enough to keep talking. "Who said anything bout roles? Werewolf was 2 nights ago, Shirogane."  
She had a short pause. "You want friends? Talk to Rantaro. He'll listen to whatever you have to say and he's too nice to challenge your shit." Kokichi grumbled but she ignored it. "Plainly have a game with him instead of against for once and you'd hit it off."  
He stared and for once, she didn't have the context to understand what the look meant and that gave her a bit of hope. "You're no fun, Tsumugi. You're really not." They both waited until he had his smile back. "But I'll let you in on a secret because I like you, ok?" He leaned in against her ear and whispered. "I'm the Mastermi-"  
"The game is over Kokichi, you need to move on some day."  
"Geez! I am, can't you see?" He walked off.

Kokichi kicked the floor with each step. He was frustrated: talking to boring old backstabbing Tsumugi was sort of an emergency plan, something he'd only crafted because he couldn't sleep and he couldn't think and yet he couldn't leave. He was already halfway through the week and he knew he'd put up with way worse before but he was also only halfway through the week with nothing to remember it for but his embarrassing outbursts. He saw no way to improve the situation at all- aside from whatever mind trick Tsumugi had pulled that had made everyone forget what she’d been like during the game. She'd done way worse than he had but everyone was so chill with her and it made no sense. He knew why he didn't care about her grand reveal (when he looked into her big blue eyes he knew that the knowledge she'd been given was a burden rather than a gift) but surely not everyone was as thoughtful as him. How Rantaro had ever forgiven her was the biggest mystery, Kokichi had seen how shitty the ultimate ass-venturer felt about his demise, something that he couldn't really imagine. He'd come out of the game with no scars- not emotional ones at least; the phantom pain had gotten the best of him on several occasions and his skin now traced the map of where each arrow had struck. The moment they were freed he got back to the smell of much more realistic blood, and though the lingering loneliness that plagued him was new, talking would do no good about it. It wouldn't take the weirdness off his skin. It'd only invite more staring to rest itself against his neck, to press against his back, to demand to be carried while still being ignored. It hindered his movements and his thought processes and talking would only make it worse. It had only made it worse before, he yelled and got yelled at, and 24 hours later he was ready to burn all the little trinkets he'd kept and never think about it again. He passed by an open doorway and looked inside, expecting an opportunity to nag Tsumugi. He instead found Rantaro. He looked at a mug between his hands, too zoned out to only be tired, and Kokichi saw why he was still trapped in the summer house. The light glossed over Rantaro's eyes and it could’ve easily been the kitchen's neons, or the silver reflection of one of his rings, anything but tears, so Kokichi willed himself forward and Rantaro still didn't move so he took the next step with more confidence as something held him back and without time to process any of it he found himself dragged into the kitchen.

Rantaro noticed her enter the room. He looked up and she thought she saw a kind of tired fondness in it, a goodnight wish he was glad to send her, then he locked eyes with Kokichi. He tensed up though he tried not to. He knew how bad it made him look that his mental walls were coming back up. Tsumugi chose not to care. She pointed Kokichi to the chair on the other side of the table, and though he opened his mouth to protest, something held him back. He sat down and opted to stare at the ceiling in silence. She put a hand on Rantaro's shoulder in a gesture that was both reassuring and a trap. She asked to be trusted in this, something she knew he rarely accorded and she rarely demanded. She could feel his want to run away under her palm and she hoped it wouldn't cloud his ears because both men needed this chat and they wouldn’t get the plausible deniability that’d loosen their lips without her around. She walked to the kettle and half expected them to have disappeared when she'd turn around, but she poured water over the small bags (she realized now she didn't ask which they wanted. She was fine with that.) and they were both there, still. She set the three mugs down and took the seat between them. She looked at each one; Rantaro brought a knee to his chest, Kokichi still admiring the patterns above him, and she hoped the “relaxation tea” she got herself really did work. She took a deep breath in, knowing fully that if she didn't take the lead in this nothing productive would come.  
"Quick preface: if this doesn't work out just, ignore each other. There are other people in this house that are being affected by your behavior." Silence. "And I don't know your business for once so if you want something to be said you're going to have to say it."  
Kokichi took his eyes off Rantaro to turn to Tsumugi, chin in hand. "Not that I wouldn't looove that," he twirled the sound around his hair, half-expecting her to interrupt already. "But there's nothing to discuss." The lie was blatant enough without Rantaro's wincing.  
"We'll change the topic then: what happened yesterday?"  
Kokichi looked away and Rantaro sank further in his seat and she wished it wasn't that easy to read them.

Kokichi wished the house was less bougie so the ceiling would have any sort of staining he could stare at. Tsumugi had stopped talking, though he had no idea how long ago, and he desperately hoped she'd never start up again. She had too much she could spill and ruin him with, and so did Rantaro. He was effectively held hostage and the only ransom they wanted was an unclear concept of "conversation", right after he'd been promised no such thing would happen ever again. The rejection still stung and he didn't understand why everything was so difficult all of a sudden. The night at the Academy had been so much easier, everything flowing together effortlessly, and the silence didn't hurt. Now Amami had turned into the fun police, it was doubtful he'd ever consider trespassing anywhere, and still he had so much he wanted to tell him. He wanted the jokes and the harmless lies and his little sighs that barely disguised his laugh. That wasn't what Tsumugi's big blue eyes wanted though, she'd force honesty out of him no matter how much it'd destroy him.  
Rantaro tried not to fidget so much but his ring kept twisting and his thoughts wouldn't click. He saw Tsumugi's point but Kokichi obviously disagreed. There was no conversation to be had for him, so not talking all day had been the right move, and still Rantaro couldn't help but feel the idea wrap itself around his heart and choke it. Kokichi had nothing to say to him. It would've been easier to accept if they erased his confession the night before, if he'd never stopped to say what was between the lines and give his own vulnerabilities away. Kokichi glanced at him every so often, and if he still trusted his reading of the liar he'd think there was his own shame in the look, a desperate attempt to read what was on his mind, to know what to do without hurting him. Rantaro knew better than to believe in it, but it made the silence feel alright. The truth was, he'd felt like Kokichi was mad at him for a while, it'd been there at the back of his mind the past 3 days. It was obvious it wasn't just anxiety anymore, something really was kept behind Kokichi's eyes, and if he could grasp it he'd know if this was worth a shot.  
"Can you fucking stop?" The chair’s front legs came violently to the floor. Kokichi's hair bounced with the sudden movement and for a second Rantaro didn't process the words.  
"What?"  
"This! You keep staring at me like I'm a Rubik's Cube!"  
"Y-" He stuttered in frustration. "You've been staring since monday, what are you talking about?"  
Tsumugi brought the mug to her lips. It wasn't very relaxing.  
"You've never been worried about me, you just-"  
Rantaro scoffed. "You don't want me to worry you want me caught in your stupid games."  
"Hey."  
"You think I talk to you just to torture you?"  
"Yes! Why else do you ever talk to anyone?"  
"Boys."  
"How evil do you think I-" The bottom of a mug hitting the table cut him off.  
"You're both so annoying. First you won't talk now you won't shut up? Do you even want to fix this?"  
"No!" Kokichi smiled through it. "You literally dragged me here!"

Rantaro didn't see the lie. He only knew that one moment he was alone, then Tsumugi brought Kokichi in. He wondered what they'd been doing before that but knowing them both it was probably some type of scheming. He was tired of scheming. Tsumugi said they both found comfort in being in pain, and he thought this couldn't be true- who liked to hurt? But he'd been overworking himself for everybody's sake but his own since he was a child. She said they refused to bond with the others, they refused to bond with anyone really, and just isolated themselves while things got worse. Kokichi thought of DICE, and quickly stopped thinking. She said they couldn't move on because they refused to, because healing meant change and change was scary. Kokichi asked, "How do you move on from dying?" and she reminded them they weren't the only ones who sacrificed themselves for the game.  
"You think I came out of the game fully healed, with no remorse or trouble facing anyone?"  
"You've been doing pretty well this week."  
She laughed a little and it took Kokichi by surprise. "You think this is the first time we've all met up? It's the first time with you two, yes, and it really shows how little you've changed."  
She pointed at both of them. But she went on, and it became clear that such a reunion had turned into something like this before. She talked about how it was at first, the awkwardness and the silence. The need to learn each other's new triggers and the old ones as well. At times, it had seemed there'd be no possibility for compromise, for everyone to be able to coexist, so heavy was the weight of The Game on all of their shoulders. They'd had their fights, and bitter insults launched from a place of desperation, because they still felt in danger each second that passed near someone like them. She told them it hurt the first times they met. But they kept at it because they knew they had to support each other, because if they didn't who would. No one else had gone through this shit, explaining the digital nightmare to anyone would be torture in itself. And they got therapy.  
"I got therapy too."  
"Would you have gone without the Foundation forcing you to?"  
Silence.  
She laughed. She admitted she wouldn't have either, but it was important to acknowledge how hard it was to seek help, and that it was the only thing that could save you. She pointed out their underlying issues that made this all so complicated and it boiled down to trauma, but it didn't mean they were fundamentally incompatible, they just had to realize when they were spiraling and communicate it without lashing out so the other wouldn't spiral too.

They exchanged a look and Kokichi said "It didn't hurt." Tsumugi blinked for a second, a little confused at what that meant, until she realized it wasn't for her. He took a sip of tea to pretend this wasn't a terrifying thing for him to admit but Rantaro smiled and he answered, "It was fun." She was left guessing but they weren't yelling at each other anymore and this time, the tea was relaxing. Rantaro sighed. "It's just a lot sometimes." Kokichi looked to the side. On a good day seeing each other was reassuring because they got it. There was no explaining that had to be done, no apologies needed either, and they could just run around an old building with half a conversation sweet and unspoken. But on a bad day, they just became a nauseating reminder of what had been done to them and everything they hated about themselves and it only made it too easy to start resenting each other. "I'm sorry."

Tsumugi turned her head to Kokichi, eyes wide open. They were unusual words to hear from him, but Rantaro knew it was a lie before he was even finished. There was nothing someone like Kokichi could ever apologize for to someone like him, and the knot in his throat made sure he didn't forget that. "What do you want me to do about it?" His eyes were cold. Kokichi stayed silent, something Rantaro was starting to expect. After all, Kokichi had never objected to the promise. He never stopped lying, and Rantaro just wished he’d make up his mind about him so they could stop wasting time guessing if he was having a good day or not, if the compliments were jokes, if he was finally going to hurt him. Rantaro didn't think he'd ever treated him badly, and Kokichi agreed they had fun together, so why was he suddenly mocking him with a fake apology? He hated how small it made him feel, the simple thought that Kokichi just didn't like him.  
The question bounced in Kokichi's skull. The answer was simple; because he was scared of silence so he filled it with anything he found. Because he wasn't making a mockery of anything for once. Because he'd been taught that there was no love that was confessed so he had to improvise new words for it, that what he found in community he would never find anywhere else. Because he was taken as a child and they shook all the kindness out of him and now he was left hollow and too aware of the world around him and how cruel it got. He couldn't trust anything because it would eventually hurt him so any sign of kindness got deconstructed into a thousand layers proving it was a joke, or a lie, or pathetic. He wondered what it'd be like to look at his life through an objective lense, without all the bullshit he added to it for everyone else and for himself. Maybe then he could explain what had set him off the day before. Maybe then he could admit that he just wanted Rantaro to keep talking to him, to need him over the others.  
"When did it get bad?"  
Both their thoughts halted at her voice.  
"Like, what was the first straw?"  
Kokichi made a face. There was nothing he could blame Rantaro for that wasn’t just heartbreak. He looked up, then Rantaro spoke.  
"When he called ladybugs stupid."  
Kokichi's eyes lit up, and he waited in case he'd misunderstood. He felt, maybe, Rantaro had never tried to forget that night, so he joked back. "You implied I do my taxes."  
"Wow, how offensive."  
They looked at each other and smiles crept on their faces and Kokichi couldn't stay still in his seat. Genuine Rantaro was back, the joking, teasing, Rantaro, who sighed when he laughed and made it worth a million normal people's booming laughter, who liked his bad jokes and played with him without ever treating him like a child. Rantaro saw Kokichi joking without hiding insults in there, the Kokichi who knew enough about people and comedy to be funny without being hurtful, who would listen to his problems and refused to take them too seriously, and how much easier it made everything seem. Still, Kokichi had to ask. "What happened to the other werewolf game?" and Rantaro realized how it must've looked when he pulled out his old one. He said "It wouldn't have been in good taste" and hoped Kokichi got it. He answered "What, you licked the cards? Amami, you're a freak." and Rantaro heard "Don't worry about it". He smiled, and Kokichi's face lit up, and when he said "I thought you liked weird" he knew he'd see what Rantaro really meant too. Tsumugi stared at them both with a tinge of frustration but it didn't matter when Kokichi's smiles were for him once more.


End file.
